"That's Mrs. Potato Head to You!"

September 25, 2:00pm
I was on my way to Belnap and was walking under a tree when something hit me in the back of the head. I turned around to see who ahad so rudely chucked something at me, but saw no one; I was the only person around. When I searched the ground for what had hit me, I found a potato-like object with a stem attached. This puzzled me; potatoes don't have stems like this one did, yet I was quite certain that it was a potato. It took me a while of foolish contemplating before I noticed other potato-like fruits hanging from the tree above me. Now, everywherer I looked on this tree there were the weirdly shaped fruits that looked like potatoes.
My head hurt slightly from behing hit by the tree's potato-fruit, so I walked over and sat down a few feet away from the expanse of the tree's branches and glared at my attacker. For once in my life I knew how John Smith must have felt like after Grandmother Willow lashed his butt in "Pocahontas"; quite suprised and violated. My brain ended up staying on track of Disney movie classics until I noticed a small tickling sensation on my right arm. My instant reaction, as most peoples' would have been, was to franticly try to brush away whatever it was that was tickling so I could get on with my life. It ended upbeing a leaf that had tickled me, but it wasn't just any leaf. This gigantic leaf that was atleast twice the size of my face belonged to a fairly extensive squash planted that stretched over a guesstimated 15 feet in its planter. Though there were no squash on the vine, there were gorgeous golden-rod squash flowers that, considering they were the size of my face, were equally as interesting as squash would have been. Being a "Cali. Valley Gal" to some extent, squash are easily recognizeable to me. Yet this squash had an interesting characteristic that I had never seen on a squash plant before; un-like normal squash plants that have a mild green shine to their leaves, the leaves of this quash plant were mostly covered by what appeared to be dust. I remembered what David Craig had taught us about the dust on other plants being plant-sperm and couldn't help but laugh at the idea that I was sitting next to squash sperm. Between having a plant attack me with its potato-fruit and sitting next to supposed squash sperm, I highly doubt I'll ever be able to look at plants with an air of innocense ever again.